


spring will come again

by wearethedreamersofdreams



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/F, Hadestown AU, Inspired by Hadestown, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), and now you do too, i love musicals, i'm a disaster tagger, mythos, reupload
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27463102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethedreamersofdreams/pseuds/wearethedreamersofdreams
Summary: See how the world could be, in spite of the way that it is
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Kudos: 2





	spring will come again

**Author's Note:**

> this is a reupload and complete rewrite of the first version i uploaded, but I wanted a new slate so here it is!
> 
> also, thank you Anais Mitchell for writing such art, it's what inspired this story in a lot of ways <3

“I have never really told anyone this story, okay no that’s a lie, I’ve never told _you_ this story. But I feel like today is the day to tell you what only a few people are willing to remember about the past of our little town, don’t ask me when or how long ago it has happened cause I don’t really remember that well.” Graham O’Brien said, while his Grandson Ryan slowly sat down next to him on the little patio of the house that they were both living in, bordering on the only train station present in said town as well.

Ryan frowned, his granddad never had been shy of telling a story or two, and Ryan loved them. Especially because it was the only form of entertainment they really had.

Ryan was sure that it was also the fact that they had it quite well compared to the others in town, being that Graham was the Guardsman of the little station they were looking over, even though the train wasn’t operated anymore, Graham had always stayed here. All alone on the edge of town, where it felt to Ryan as if he were waiting for something. That and the fact that Graham was also a good storyteller that sometimes earned some extra coin on the side.

But there was one story that had always eluded Ryan’s ears, and at a point in life he’d stopped asking about it, because he was sure even Graham had forgotten about it.

“Some people would say that this story sounds like an old song, an old tale from long ago.” Ryan just nodded, while looking over towards the horizon, his gaze following the long railroad track that went _somewhere_.

Or not anymore really, considering the track was damaged, and the train had stopped running long ago, which was also when the town had gone into an existential crisis in which it was always cold and grey.

Summertime had now seemingly eluded them, and Ryan had only heard stories of the times that the sun would shine, and the flowers would grow.

Ryan, god bless him, had tried to figure out _why_ this was happening, even though he’d never known any better he was _curious_ of nature. His ma, and Graham had told him stories from time to time, but they were quick, and layered with sadness while also not holding any clue to why their town was drowning in sorrow.

Now he was 26, and none the wiser as to why exactly the way things were.

“Once, a long time ago, right before you were born maybe, this railroad track was still working, bringing us the turning of seasons with every train that would come up.” Graham looked up at the horizon, swallowing while idly twirling a stick around in the dirt of the ground around them.

“Some would say the railroad was akin to the road to hell, not unlike the hell that we were living right here in this little town of ours, but some would say that at least down in that hell run by a madman, they’d have some sort of a future. That’s where this story comes from as well, an old song if you will. About hardships, choosing for one selves and the world of gods, and men alike. And the ending? How bad it maybe it’s always the same, but because of that we’ll keep singing it anyway.” Ryan settled in for a long sit, he was almost 100 percent sure this would be one of his granddad’s longer stories.

“Like I said before, this story caries the tales of Gods and men alike, all intertwined because of this railroad track right here.” Graham tapped the track with his twig, the sound of iron on wood light, but oh so present.

“Normally I don’t really introduce my characters before I tell a story, but these were, _are_ real people. And I need you to know them a little bit before I start. So that it feels a lot more like friends, like some of these people were friends of mine before.”

“The road to hell, this railroad line, was always rumoured to have three ladies ghosting around. Some people who had been traveling around the track before arriving here, had said that these ladies were all dressed the same, grey wispy clothes, tattered due to the wear of time. And they would whisper in your ear, stories about your next decisions, the next thing that would have to happen in your life. It’s why we started to call them the Fates, even though no one is sure if they really exist, I’d like to think that they were the reason our two main characters met in the first place, for better and for worse.”

Ryan didn’t really believe in Ghosts but had to check twice when he thought he saw a whisp of grey clothing disappear behind one of the trees along the railroad track.

“On that same railroad line, we’d have a train come in occasionally, of which a lady would be stepping off it. She’d carry a suitcase full of summertime, she’d go by many names, but River was the one most would recognize her by.” Ryan had heard rumours once, about a lady of the underground that would bring the six months of summertime to their town.

But he was young then and hadn’t paid that much attention to stories that he thought where rumours anyway.

“Now, some people would have the dubious honour of travelling on this railroad line when it was still operating, but none except River of course, would return from the hell that was on the end of the line. Because at that end you’d find a person so ruthless, so misguided by his own capabilities that people would call him The Master. A master of manipulation, a god in its own belief, running a place of eternal shade and darkness.” Ryan shuddered at that.

“Do you know why he was believed to be like that?” Ryan asked, he couldn’t belief someone would go so far that he’d be going by the name of ‘The Master.’

“Don’t worry Ryan, we will eventually get to him, there at the end of the railroad line.” Ryan just nodded.

“And of course, before I forget on the road to hell there’s was also a railroad station. Which of course is this place right here. I’d see the people off to their final destination, I’d be the last face people would see before they’d jump on that train to hell.” Ryan couldn’t help but be shocked at that. As far as he was aware, Graham had always taken pride in what he did as a guardsman.

But then again most of his stories were never about his work in the first place, and if asked about it Graham’s eyes would always turn a bit dark, and sad.

“Now, someone must tell this tale, even if it doesn’t turn out well. And who knows? Maybe it will turn out this time, on the road to hell, on the railroad line. But no matter what, it’s still a sad song, which I’m going to sing for you anyway.” Ryan always loved the more cryptic stuff Graham would tell. It’s why he’d taken so well to poetry and lyricism.

Sadly, most of the townsfolk disregarded any future for that in any shape or form.

“Now, not all the people on this railroad track get to be gods. Remember, times are hard here in this little town of ours. The town were only men would live.

Now our story cannot do without men, so let me introduce you to a few of them. Once this town was full of musicians, Choruses, and poets. Art was alive and well in this town. And on this railroad line there was a _young girl bended down on one knee,_ working on a song of some sort. You see, her mama was a friend of mine, she was the daughter of a Muse. Some would say that she was touched by the gods themselves, some would say a dreamer, but I would say _a gifted storyteller,_ who’d go by the name of Thirteen.” Ryan frowned, he’d never heard of her before, and he’d like to think he knew everyone in town.

“One more soul to introduce, one more person on this road that you haven’t heard about yet. She was a girl coming in from a cold place far away from here, she walked along the railroad line on the road to hell. This young girl was looking for something to eat, and that’s how we will begin the story of Thirteen and Yaz. Some would say it’s a love song, a tale of love from long ago, sad in its own merit. But we’re going to sing it even so. Are you ready?” Ryan couldn’t help but shrug, he’d gotten curious now. If there was a fellow poet out there somewhere, he’d like to know about her.

“This is the tale, of Thirteen and Yaz.”

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I have the book Working on a Song(about the process of writing hadestown the lyrics etc), things made a lot more sense to me, but also see things in a different perspective. Life happened things changed and I wanted to take the story in a different direction then what I originally for V1 intended.  
> So here it is, chapter 1 just to get a feel back for it and see where I can take it from here.  
> lemme know what you think :)
> 
> also I'm not sure about River as phesephone yet? like that means her and the master are married... but that said she does fit the musical version of phesephone as a t so... i might just roll with it ha.
> 
> follow me on twitter where i sometimes yell about tv shows:  
> @_JenniferOh_


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